


Say It Again, Sammy

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-02
Updated: 2006-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam makes this sound when he has a vision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Say It Again, Sammy  
**Author:** merepersiflage  
**Pairings:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** 18+  
**Category:** PWP  
**Word Count:** 2,600  
**Spoilers:** Through “Nightmare”   
**Summary:** Sam makes this sound when he has a vision.  
**Warnings:** Incest, graphic m/m sex, language  
**Disclaimer:** The boys belong to others, I intend no harm and will make no profit.  
**Notes:** In honor of [ ](http://queenpersina.livejournal.com/profile)[**queenpersina**](http://queenpersina.livejournal.com/) who pointed out that Sammy makes cute sounds when he has his visions.   
  
  
  
Sam’s eyes had been squeezed tightly shut against the headache that had been kicking his ass since Michigan, but the motion of the car told him they’d pulled off the highway. The engine shuddered off. Neon lights stabbed through his eyelids.  
  
“Sorry, Sam. I’ve gotta get some sleep.”  
  
“I could—”  
  
“Try not to be a total ass.” Dean was out of the car and back before Sam had had time to decide whether he felt better or worse now that they’d stopped moving.   
  
He slitted his eyes open just enough to stagger inside the motel room and curse at the sight of the lone double bed.   
  
“It was all they had.” Dean kept his voice pitched low. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”  
  
“Don’t be a total ass. How’s your shoulder?”  
  
“It’s fine. How’s your head?”  
  
“Fine.”   
  
“So, we’re all fine and we’re going to bed.”   
  
His headache had spread all over his skin, making his clothes rub like sandpaper. He peeled them off before dropping onto the mattress, barely aware that Dean tugged the covers over him before letting the pain drag him unconscious.   
  
*   
  
Sam opened his eyes. That was a pretty wild dream. He grabbed at the threads of it before it slipped away. Something about Dean and Las Vegas and a hotel room with a sunken hot tub. He blinked. His headache was gone, but he had a whole new problem, right between his legs. Yeah, that had been a hell of a dream.   
  
Dean was snoring softly beside him. Sam loved sleeping with his brother, but sometimes he hated _sleeping_ with his brother. Dean could fill a king-sized mattress on his own, and his body radiated heat like a blast furnace. It was cold in the room, and under other circumstances, Dean’s body heat and the weight of him draped over his side would have been a pleasant lure to drag him back under. But, with an erection that pulsed harder with each heartbeat, and Dean close enough to make it worse and too unconscious to do anything about it, sleep was fucking impossible.   
  
He tried thinking of things usually guaranteed to make him wilt, but Dean shifted, the hair of his thigh just brushing Sam’s dick, and Sam couldn’t keep back a moan.   
  
Dean’s lazy drape turned to a hard grip.  
  
“Sam? You all right? Another vision?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Dean had to have heard the frustration in his tone.  
  
“Oh.” And then deeper. “Ohhh.” Dean’s chuckle tickled his ear. “You know, you make the same sounds when you’re having one of your visions as you do when you’re—”  
  
“I do not.”  
  
“Dude, you totally do.”  
  
“No, I don’t.”   
  
Dean’s hand went right for his cock, and Sam gasped.   
  
“See?”  
  
“Those visions hurt.”  
  
“Well then it must hurt like hell when you come. Throw in a few ‘yeah, fuck me harders’ I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”  
  
“It’s not the same.”  
  
“Well maybe not that sound.” Dean admitted as he stroked his cock and Sam made helpless grunts. “But I’ll bet I can get the same moan out of you.”  
  
“If you jab a stick in my eye.”  
  
“Oh, I’m gonna stick something somewhere. Your headache gone?”   
  
“Yeah,” Sam bucked up a little harder as Dean tightened and sped up.  
  
“Good.”  
  
Sam bit his lip. He wasn’t going to make any more sounds for Dean to make fun of. He could see Dean’s face in the green neon from the hotel sign that was oozing through the crack in the drapes. Dean was watching him with a look of concentration. Dean nodded. “Oh, you are so on.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You think you can keep your mouth shut if I fuck you?”  
  
“What, are you reading my mind?” Sam’s stomach flipped with more than a little bit of panic at the idea that they might both be turning into psychic freaks.  
  
Dean laughed. “Dude, that pout is so obvious I don’t need to read your mind.”  
  
“Who said you were going to get to fuck me?”  
  
“Didn’t I just say I could read your face?”  
  
“You like to think so—fuck.”  
  
“Losin’ already.”  
  
“I do not say ‘fuck’ when I get a vision.”  
  
“You’ll be making those vision-moans in five minutes. Time me.”  
  
“Time you? You’ve got to be kidding.”  
  
But Dean’s tongue was already lapping around his navel, and Sam snuck a look at his watch.   
  
Five minutes? He could, _oh shit._ That dream had really gotten him started. Dean started breathing on his dick, and he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.   
  
The first touch of hot, wet velvet on the head of his cock always felt like the first time, a blinding burst of _ohmygod, so good, so good, please don’t stop_. Sensation poured down his dick and into his body until everything was liquid sweet under his skin.   
  
He bit his lip harder, and then, oh hell, he just let it go. The moan ripped his throat as it went by.   
  
Dean pulled off. “Not bad, but that’s not quite it.”  
  
“Fuck. You.”  
  
“Not exactly the plan.”  
  
Dean went back down on him, sucking him deep then backing off and using his tongue. And again. And again. Sam didn’t care any more about not making those sounds. All he cared about was Dean’s mouth on his dick and how quickly he was going to get off.   
  
“Nope.” Dean pulled off again. “Maybe I was wrong.”   
  
  
“Jesus, Dean, when did you get to be such a fucking cocktease?”  
  
Dean jumped off the bed and stripped off his boxers and t-shirt. Anyone else might have looked freaky, if not frightening, bathed in that eerie green light, but not Dean. The light made him glow like a comic book superhero, broad shoulders and hard muscles. Of course, no comic book Sam had seen had shown a superhero’s cock, but he was pretty sure Dean could, ah, measure up.   
  
He glanced at his watch as Dean knelt back on the bed. “Ha. Five minutes.”  
  
“You win. Wanna guess what your prize is?”  
  
Sam didn’t have to guess, and damned if it didn’t make his cock leak and twitch. Dean was grinning down at him.   
  
“And I still haven’t given up on getting the right moan out of ya.”   
  
Right now, Sam didn’t even care about Dean’s teasing. That dream and the too brief blow job had him ready to come yesterday. All he wanted was to get off and get back to sleep. He rolled over.   
  
“Anybody ever tell you you’re an easy lay?”  
  
“Just the lucky ones.” He waited for the cool brush of lubed fingers, but got a hot mouth on the top of his spine instead. “What are you gettin’ girly on me now? Just fuck me.”  
  
“Careful what you wish for, Sam.”   
  
And then it was teeth on his neck and a thick burning stab in his ass. Sam was intimately familiar with the feel of all Dean’s fingers. That was his thumb. Sam barely had time to adjust to that intrusion before Dean slid his other thumb in. That scraped a deeper moan out of him.   
  
“See something, Sam? Or was that someone-put-a-stick-in-my-eye pain?”  
  
“Not exactly.” And he’d endure a lot worse before he’d admit it, but taunting Dean like that probably hadn’t been a good idea. He winced into the pillow as Dean slid his thumbs against each other, one going in, one popping out. The burn faded and Sam drove his hips into the fuck of Dean’s thumbs. Pleasure built until Dean pinned him down with both at once, twisting them. Unless Dean was planning to fuck him with a tree trunk, Sam figured he was stretched enough. “Now.” It was low and gasping, almost like choking and fuck it to hell if Dean wasn’t right.   
  
“Closer.” Dean murmured. “Let’s see.”   
  
A few last twisting thrusts and he was empty, waiting., need making him rock his hips.   
  
Sam was about to shift to the middle of the bed, when Dean stopped him. “There’s good.”  
  
Sam was almost on the edge. The bed was pretty high and he really didn’t feel like ending up on the floor. “Dean.” He felt Dean’s knee squeeze between his legs. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Wow, Sam, those visions must have really scrambled your brain. You don’t know? I mean, we just did this three days ago.”  
  
“Not like—holy shit.”  
  
Dean slid inside him with a long burning scrape.   
  
“Fuck,” Dean panted over him.  
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Dean was making tiny thrusts, each one setting off a brand new spark along fired up nerves. “You’re so, god so tight like this I can’t--”  
  
Sam tried to shift his legs to allow his brother to thrust deeper but there was nowhere to go. Dean lifted one of his legs and turned him sideways away from the edge. They both gasped as Dean buried himself balls-deep.   
  
“I’ll get that sound out of you yet, Sammy.”  
  
“Ugh.”  
  
Dean’s cock made deep slow thrusts which should have been impossible from his position because there was no way for him to get that kind of leverage unless . . .  
  
“Oh, god, you’ve got your foot on the floor, don’t you?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“Oh shit.” Because Dean was clearly in the mood for a long, languid fuck and when he lifted Sam’s leg higher until it hooked over his hip, he came into him dead on sideways and didn’t that just rub Sam in a way that made him feel a blink away from coming. And he rubbed it with every fucking stroke.   
  
Feeling that good for that long was going to make him die. The blood pounding in his dick was acting like quick-set concrete because his dick was turning to stone and he needed something to fuck because every one of Dean’s strokes had him hanging on the edge and _please please please faster now._   
  
Fuck! Did Dean read his mind? Because he just laughed and moved even slower. Their legs were tangled, and Sam had to grip the sheets or those gut-deep thrusts would shove him across the bed. He could feel the cheap bleached-thin cotton start to tear under his fingers.   
  
He had his throat closed to keep back any sound, but now he had to beg because he really couldn’t go on like this. Dean had been in him forever, burning him up inside out, striking those nerves that just made him see blinding white that wasn’t the start of any vision. He was just going to say _please_ beg to come, but as soon as he opened his mouth the sound choked him, tore past his lips and goddamnit, Dean was right.   
  
“That’s it.”   
  
_Son of a bitch!_  
  
“Again, Sammy.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You’re such a control freak.”  
  
“Fuck you. Who’s on the bottom?” Sam panted.   
  
But then something built up inside him and he had no idea what sounds he made because JesusfuckingChrist he was coming with his whole body. And his dick stayed hard and he didn’t really shoot, just a little spill and Dean kept pumping, his crown rubbing again and again over that spot. Sweet, god, so goddamn good. Pleasure just kept pulsing through him, making him dizzy and he could hear Dean moaning, too, his strokes gone all jerky.  
  
Dean might as welll have been in pain, too because the sounds he made as he spurted inside him sounded like they were tearing through his chest on unseen claws.   
  
And then nothing but his name. ‘  
  
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.”   
  
The room got quiet. Quiet enough that Sam swore he could hear the buzz from the neon sign outside their window.   
  
Dean shifted roughly, jerking free of him and Sam winced.   
  
“Sorry, Sammy. Falling.” Dean collapsed across his thighs and looked up at him.   
  
His brother’s eyes shone an eerie black in the sickly green light. Dean’s gaze tracked the length of him.   
  
"Dude. You didn’t come?”  
  
“Well. Kind of.”  
  
“Kind of? What, you faked it?” Dean looked back at his face. “What the hell was al that jesusfuck-godohgodding about? And you made that sound.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“No seriously. Did you—”  
  
“It felt like coming but different. Good different.”  
  
“So you . . . uh . . . think you can go again?”  
  
“Um—”  
  
“Not like that, dude.” Dean rolled forward until his breath fell hot on Sam’s cock.  
  
“Oh. Oh, that’d be good.”  
  
“Roll.”  
  
They twisted and tangled and elbowed each other until they hit the center of the bed, Dean lying between his legs, and the grin on his face said he was still in the mood to take it slow, and this time Sam wouldn’t mind.   
  
He watched Dean’s head lower to him. And that was just too fucking hot. The anticipation had his gut twisting and moans slipping from him before Dean even put his mouth on him. Dean played with him, stroking, swirling, bobbing and every time those dark eyes looked up at him behind those thick lashes his hips bucked, and Dean pinned him down again, his shoulders forcing Sam’s legs wide open.   
  
Dean’s thumbs dug into Sam’s hip bones, fingers shifting beneath to dig into his butt. Dean pulled him apart, stretched that still burning skin and muscle until Sam felt like he was fucking him again.   
  
Sam’s hips were aching with the need to push him forward, fuck something. He shifted and twisted, trying to tear himself free. Dean just laughed, vibration tingling right through his cock and and down to his fucking spine.   
  
Dean gripped him tighter and then one finger brushed him, teased him, slipped inside him while Dean sucked hard, all that wet and smooth and hot and his tongue rolled over all the sweet spots and there was no doubt about this one.   
  
It wasn’t a slow build, it just slammed through him, and his back arched as the orgasm forced his spine to shoot out his dick.   
  
Dean gasped and pulled off. Sam was still shooting and maybe it was the spinal fluid that made a rope land right up on his neck because he’d never come like that before. Dean wiped his chin on Sam’s hip and smirked up at him.   
  
“So, didja come that time?”  
  
Sam smacked him on the side of his head and fought for breath. Dean retaliated with a nip on the top of his thigh.   
  
“I wouldn’t get too aggressive with my teeth down here, buddy boy.”  
  
God he hated that smirk and he loved that smirk because usually that smirk followed Dean making Sam come so hard he couldn’t see straight.   
  
Sam shifted and rolled free, kicking Dean in the shoulder.   
  
“You are _such_ a fucking control freak.”  
  
“Just because I don’t automatically agree with every lame ass thing to come out of your mouth _I’m_ a control freak?”  
  
“No, you’re a control freak because you’ve always gotta be in control. It’s probably why your visions hurt so fuckin’ much. Just relax and go with it, Sammy.”  
  
“Relax and go with it?” He turned back to face his brother. “Relax when some fucked up thing is shoving blurry movies into my brain?”  
  
“Yeah. You know, it’s like sex. You can’t come if you don’t relax and go with it.”  
  
“You’re saying I should treat psychic visions like orgasms?”  
  
Dean shrugged. “Why not? You make the same sounds.”  
  
Sam sighed.   
  
“And Sam.” Dean’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Those sounds are kinda cute.”  
  
Sam knew there was one perfect answer to that, an answer any younger sibling knew as well as his name. He kicked his brother hard in the shin. “Fuck you.”


End file.
